No Facade
by Shadowfang3000
Summary: "We're symbiotes, you and I." - After Orianna is recovered from a near death state by a wandering Warden, she starts to come to terms with just who she is. Is she really just a heartless shell? Or is she just as human as anyone else?


(A/N) Thresh and Orianna... What? D:

Rather a strange combo certainly, but picture them: A Soul Reaping nutcase who is always calm and an emotionless robot... Well, a relationship could flourish from that eh? :P

The first influence for this is the fact that Thresh is one of my favourite characters in LOL. The second influence was the idea of his "Soul Gluttony", and how he could be filled up with souls. If you have a full tummy, what do you do?

You stop eating!

Once again this is a rather strange idea for a fic, and I don't intend it to be much of a romance thing. So, apologies for any resultant suckage D:

WARNING: Lots spelling errors, OOC characters, a sucky friendship story, terrible attempts at being adorable, and Thresh not murdering things. This is one of my worst fics in recent times, so I apologise :/

**No Facade**

She couldn't feel her limbs.

It didn't really matter that much; she often lost the feeling in them. They were only artificial, and could be replaced with ease.

_Kind of like her._

So when she realised that she was alone and broken; cast aside at the river-bank of the infamous Summoner's Rift, she wasn't really that shocked. To be honest, she'd predicted such a fate upon joining the League of Legends.

She'd tried so hard to fit in with her colleagues, but the truth was that none of them truly desired her. She wasn't human, nor was she even an organic being. She was an artificial intelligence squeezed into a vaguely humanoid shell of iron and spite.

_She was a weapon._

_And all weapons can be discarded.  
_

It didn't matter though: She'd served her purpose on the battlefield, for her allies and her Summoner. She had no idea whether or not her efforts were in vain, but in the end that no longer mattered either.

_Her mission was complete._

_She could rest in peace._

While her sensation of touch was a simulation, she let her tense frame relax into the murky waters of the river. She couldn't tell whether or not it was hot or cold, but the feeling of the liquid against her body intrigued her. She'd always wanted to swim at a seaside, but her weight and lack of buoyancy had prevented her.

_And father never allowed her._

He'd always been protective of her, constantly watching and ensuring that she was functioning efficiently. He had managed to convince himself that she truly was his daughter, even though she knew the truth.

She was just a replacement.

The real Orianna had died a painful death on the fields of war decades prior to her creation, and it had driven him mad. He would never let his daughter be hurt ever again, and she knew that he felt useful when he protected and maintained her. So whenever he brushed her false hair, or whenever he polished her ice-cold chassis, she wouldn't protest.

_She only wanted daddy to be happy._

_But she'd disappointed him._

She had deserted him to seek fame and love in the League, believing that the ever-swelled ranks of Summoners could use someone with her expertise. She had abilities way in advance of the young girl she was named after, and she wished to service the world with all of her might as her predecessor had dreamed of years before.

But she found no glory on the battlefield.

No Summoner desired an emotionless, slow, dull and weak warrior of clockwork when superior fighters could be found. From berserkers fuelled by bloodlust to beautiful maidens of the most potent magicks, why go for her?

_Why trusts a facade?_

A shock went through her skeleton, likely caused by the flooding waters around her stomach. She was still partially submerged in the river, gentle waves brushing against her as she lay motionless. It would probably sting if she could still feel pain, and she couldn't decide whether or not this was a good thing or a bad thing.

The Rift was silent as far as she could tell, the battle for the area having either moved forward or ended all together. She could try wandering back to her base upon recollecting and assembling herself once again, but would her fellow champions still be alive?

_Would they even welcome her miraculous return?_

She'd heard so many bitter whispers from them leading up to their summoning, speaking of the "Clockwork Witch" and her lack of empathy. She'd tried to talk to them; to learn of their lives and share stories with them like her father had tutored her to do years ago.

Yet none of them spoke to her.

In fact, they seemed to actively avoid her. She had been left alone to hold the middle lane of the battle ground, a task she accepted with the belief that it would please her friends.

_It's what they wanted from her._

_She'd do anything to make them happy._

_She would die for their pleasure._

The more she thought about it, the more she understood why she had been abandoned. She had decided to stay behind to cover the retreat of her allied champions, who had been grievously wounded and were under hot pursuit from their foes. She had been left to fight five able-bodied warriors on her lonesome.

_She knew she would fail._

_But at least her friends would be safe._

She had expected at least some protest from her allies, but they just kept running. No one pulled her back, nor did anyone beg her to run. They didn't care about what she did, or what her fate beheld.

_She was a weapon._

_And she had been cast aside._

_And for the first time since her creation, she felt afraid._

She was truly alone, with no chance of extraction from the perilous wilderness of the battleground. She was simply a feast for the Carrion Crows, who watched from the tree branches attentively for her demise. How disappointed they would be to find that today's meal was a chunk of inedible metals.

If she could speak to them, she'd probably apologise about that.

_That was funny._

She wanted to laugh, but she was far too starved of energy to do so. She'd always dreamed of an occasion where she could laugh at something with others, but she had never known when to giggle or chuckle. In all honesty, she didn't even know _how_ to laugh.

_That was funny too._

_What she'd give for someone to be here with her, so they could laugh together._

Straining the rusted cogs of her neck joints to survey the treeline, she swore that a figure was watching her. Through the brush and foliage was a freezing azure glow, held aloft by a spectral hand of unknown origin. It could've been one of her foes, screening the warground in hunt for wounded allies to save and injured enemies to put out of their misery.

_Either way, it was a win-win situation._

The rustling and chilling clangs of firm chains echoed through the woodland, signalling the approach of this foreign entity. The glow seemed to brighten, stinging her optics with its vibrancy. It almost seemed to dampen upon this realisation, as if adjusting itself for her comfort.

"_Cling, clang..._" A slow voice hummed, but a low mumble to her dying senses. The rustle of bushes announced his emergence from the treeline, but her sight had since abandoned her. "_Jingle, jangle..."_

The river-water splashed and the chains sang their song as they slowly came closer and closer. The entity continued to hum to itself casually, completely calm despite the ongoing war that filled the rift.

_She couldn't decipher the words anymore, but she still heard the tune._

_Cling, clang..._

_Jingle, jangle..._

Suddenly the light grew in intensity, the chains roaring in her ears. The glow was right in front of her face, the entity studying her curiously. After a few moments of this a frozen, bone-liked hand traced across her neckline as if hunting for a pulse.

"Do not feign weakness." The source of the voice mumbled, shaking her shoulder firmly. "You do not need to fear."

She wanted to speak to the voice, but she was rapidly losing her strength. The voice was there to help her, yet no matter how hard she tried she couldn't respond. She felt a stabbing sensation as a limb found its way back into its socket.

_He was rebuilding her._

"It's rude not to speak." The voice continued. Her hearing had returned to its usual quality, and she could now tell that it was a male speaking to her. The voice almost sounded ethereal, a ghostly echo following every word. "Open your eyes, and your mouth."

She could practically feel the energy filling her body once more, as his hand held onto her shoulder and the light-source shrouded her in its eternal glow. She could now see that it was some sort of strange Lantern, suspended over her by a chain held by the man's hand.

"Look into the light." He said gently, caressing her cheek with frozen fingers. "Do not ignore it, even if it hurts to look."

She had no idea what was going on, but she also possessed no reason to object. It was he who filled her with this newfound energy, so it was only logical to comply with his demands. Her dreary eyes stared at the lantern, the glow dampening as she held her stare. His grip on her tightened to hold her steady, the light weakening at an ever greater speed.

"Keep looking at it, do not stop."

Her eyes started to sting, the prolonged exposure to the lantern becoming increasingly painful as time went on. Even then she bore with it, not wanting to disappoint this apparently friendly man.

_And then the light vanished completely._

The man pulled the lantern back and placed it on the floor, offering his hand to her. Her body felt stiff, yet a quick burst of effort allowed her to snap her arm into position and grab hold of his extended palm.

"Good." His voice chimed, as if he was talking to a young child who had just learned to speak. He didn't pull at first, letting her lay back and rest briefly as her body regenerated its strength. "You shall be able to stand within the next minute or so, relax."

Orianna didn't understand why he had offered his hand at first, yet a quick skim over her research into relationships made her realise. He was trying to comfort her, the events of the last few hours' likely being frightening for a normal human.

_He was being polite._

"Who are you?" She asked in her usual, blunt tone. She'd always tried to put emotion into her words, wishing to sound gentle and soft at all times. Yet no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop sounding like an emotionless machine. The man let his free hand fondle the chain of his lantern, tugging it closer.

"I am simply the Warden of these parts." He said, holding the lantern aloft as its glow returned. "I search the area for wounded such as you."

"Why?" She asked, tilting her head.

"Somebody must do so." The Warden nodded, answering without hesitation.

"Why?" She asked again, tilting her head further.

"The wounded need to find their way back home, do they not?" He responded, his grip on her hand still frozen cold.

"Why?" She pressed on, her head practically on the verge of rotating to a 180 degree angle.

"Because they'd prefer to be with their colleagues, wouldn't they?" He mumbled, growing a tad bit impatient.

"Why?"

The Warden sighed at her repeated questions, wondering if the robotic woman had been caught in some sort of programming loop. She had actually been trying to sustain some sort of meaningful conversation, feeling a bit proud of how well she had apparently done.

_Although she was curious about one thing._

_Why would she prefer to be with her colleagues?_

They were the ones that had abandoned her. They were the ones that had put her through this mess. All of it was _their _fault!

She was feeling anger for the first time, and she was enjoying every excruciating detail of the emotion. She was enraged by the sheer image of their foul faces, their smelly bodies and disgusting voices a plague to the world.

She didn't want to see them ever again, she hated them so much!

_And then she calmed down._

The Warden leant closer to her and spoke calmly, his ghoulish yet surprisingly charming voice echoing through the silent air. "Your allies need you."

"Do they?" She asked, shaking off the strange sensation that she had just felt.

"Indeed." He said bluntly, leaving her to try and consider the reasons herself. Heaving her up gently, he began to lead the way with his lantern extended in front of him. "We must go, follow the light."

It took her a moment to understand, but she did so with renewed vigour in her limbs. He glanced back briefly to see her following his every step, her cerulean eyes staring downwards as she went. Happy that she was obeying his commands, he continued to lead the way.

The path was rough and dangerous, covered in thick grasses and tall trees. Visibility was low, and it took great effort to push through the undergrowth. Despite his best efforts to clear the way, the Warden left obstacles that Orianna had to traverse through her own means. She said nothing as she went, the only sounds being the gentle jangle of his chains and the buzz of her worn axles and mechanics, which strained in effort to try and get back into optimal condition.

"There is a long journey ahead of us." The Warden said, trying to start a conversation. Despite his attempts, Orianna still radiated an aura of confusion and discomfort around him. It had only worsened when he mentioned her colleagues, suggesting fears beyond what he currently understood.

"Yes." She replied, her frozen sculpture of a face somehow conveying her sadness. "I hope that we are welcomed by my allies."

The Warden batted the thick undergrowth away with his skeletal hand, keeping his lantern high so that he was clearly visible to Orianna. Despite his difficulties she had little trouble keeping track of him, the sound of his shackles grating against her ears.

_Her false ones, of course._

"Do tell me, what is your name?" He asked, trying to avoid the topic of her team. He bashed through a particularly stubborn branch and was rewarded by a large clearing, easing the effort of their journey.

"My name is Orianna." She answered, her monotone voice unchanging. "And you are Thresh, the Chain Warden."

_Tag._

"I beg your pardon?" The Warden asked, walking unimpeded despite her brash claim. She tilted her head curiously, pressing the point.

"You are the reaper, are you not?"

The Warden slowed to a stop yet did not turn, his lantern's glow dimming as his voice lowered to a deep, almost bitter growl. "I... Think you are mistaken."

"I am certain that you are." She tempted, seemingly not understanding the simple concept of politeness. "You are the infamous collector of souls, and I take it you lurk here for that very purpose."

_Well, she was right there._

"... Yes." He admitted, prompting no reaction from the woman. "I am that Thresh."

"I take it that you hunger for my soul?" She asked. She was unbelievably calm despite the discovery of who he was, asking this question as if she was asking him his favourite fruit. She bowed her head down low apologetically, her dull voice somehow conveying a sense of guilt. "I'm terribly sorry to inform you that as a mechanical being, I do not possess a soul."

_As her team members constantly reminded her._

Thresh turned with his best attempt of a raised eyebrow, his lack of such features making this an extremely difficult procedure. He let his lantern drop limply to his side, staring deeply at her with a threatening glare. "I realise that."

"So may I ask why you are here?"

"I already told you, I escort lost souls." He spat, raising his lantern once more. "I've fulfilled my quota of souls today; you are a curiosity that I happened upon."

If Orianna wasn't scared before, she certainly was now. Despite her still expression and unchanging tone, her posture and tense form gave it all away. "Why did you rebuild me? Am I needed by you?"

"It's a pretty simple relationship that I am _certain_ that you can comprehend. You are a murderer who releases souls for my taking. With your life, I can exist. Clear?"

_We're symbiotes, you and I._

"Now that we've dispensed with the pleasantries..." Thresh muttered, walking off once again. "Follow the light."

Orianna considered what to do from there, now knowing that Thresh wasn't at all as friendly as previously indicated. While he could easily cleave her in twain, he had no real purpose to. He would lead her back home, and she knew that for certain. Trying to let the strange stiff sensation in her faux-muscles fade, she pursued his hastening form.

The silence that followed them was now much less one of shyness and more that of disgust and hatred. Stumbling onto the middle lane of the Rift, Thresh snapped his head left and right as he studied the area.

"About time." He sighed, brushing his shoulder clear of leaves and foliage. "Which way?"

Orianna gestured to her side of the field, and he shuffled past her with a grumble. Orianna continued to follow him down the beaten path, trying to start a conversation like he had attempted prior.

"I am uncertain whether or not my colleagues will approve of my return."

"I see no reason for them to disapprove." Thresh replied, his pace instinctively slowing to extend the length of their exchange. "What reasons do they have against you?"

"They dislike me."

Thresh stopped in his tracks and looked back sceptically. "And you know this how?"

"I hear their comments about me." Orianna sighed, her tone changing for the first time since she'd met the Warden. "They do not attempt to even hide such words."

"Naughty names from foolish humans." Thresh spat, crossing his arms irritably. "And people ask me why I work alone."

"I have attempted to converse with them, but to no avail." She continued, voicing her concerns. "They claim that due to my mechanical status, I am incapable of feelings."

"Evidently not." Thresh replied.

"Excuse me?"

"You seem pretty grumpy right now." He chuckled mockingly. Letting his free hand reach out, he slapped her cheek gently.

"Stop that."

"Do you find this irritating?" He grinned, slapping her face again. While he was being gentle, it felt strange. She felt very, very...

_Irritated._

"You are capable of feeling, that's for sure." He declared, patting her head one more time before retreating. "Your allies are an ignorant bunch."

"Indeed."

Thresh laughed at her blunt response and continued walking, the glowing torches of the entry to the base piercing the thick fog of the Rift. Orianna didn't know what he found funny about her words, but she tried to keep what she said in mind. If it had somehow made the Chain Warden laugh, it had to be funny and entertaining.

_Two things she'd always dreamt to be._

Thresh ascended the steps of the platform slowly, one of his chains scraping across the cobblestone stair with a shrill ring. The inhabitants of the area turned at the sight of the hulking man, the petite Orianna flanking him to the right. A tall, tanned woman glared at her with uncontained disgust, a large spear gripped by one of her strong arms.

"Who is this beast, robot?" She asked, tempted to point the tip of her spear at the Warden. Thresh stopped at the entry way and let Orianna by to do the talking, more out of politeness than willingness.

"He led me here through the battlefield. He is an ally." She answered. The woman glared at her as she answered, but reluctantly lowered her weapon after this. "There is no need to fear, Nidalee."

"Hmph, do I appear frightened to you?" She asked, turning and leaving before she could answer. The rest of her colleagues paced towards Orianna in confusion, more disappointed by her survival than pleased.

"Glad to see she did something right." A bald mage sighed, a large scroll covered in ancient text tied to his back. "We didn't miss you."

"So it seems." She replied, glancing back behind Thresh. The entire Rift was devoid of hostile force, suggesting that her team had continued to achieve victory without her. "Congratulations on your victory, I am certain that your efforts were effective and successful."

"No thanks to you." The mage scoffed, a frail hand reaching for a bandage around his stomach. His chest still bore large red scrapes and cuts, many sustained during Orianna's desperate attempt to save her allies. "We lost Taric out there thanks to you."

"My condolences." Orianna said, tilting her head down slightly in a mourning fashion. Thinking about how people tended to comfort the saddened, she raised a chilly metal hand and placed it on his shoulder. "I am certain that he has gone to a greater realm."

"Shut up." The mage spat "You're not sorry; He's just a meatbag to you."

_On the contrary._

To be honest, Taric was one of the only members of her team that had been at all considerate towards her. True, he did seem visibly discomforted by her appearance and status as a mechanical lifeform, but he never spoke ill of her. He often had conversations with her when she was alone, doing what he could to make her feel loved in this unkind world of theirs.

_Just like daddy._

She was definitely heartbroken by the demise of the man, but she simply couldn't express it. Many women would scream and cry at the loss of a loved one, but she didn't. She just lived life on without a fear of the consequences of death.

"_I am certain that he has gone to a greater realm."_

_How wrong her words were._

No one knew what happened after death, it was one of those things that religion existed for. Being a mechanical being she knew that if death occurred, she could simply be rebuilt. People like Taric, like Nidalee, like Ryze and Jarvan had only one chance to life.

_One shot._

She would never see Taric again, and it was something she had only just realised. His warm and caring voice and his lovely stories of history long gone had died with him. She could nestle in her kind memories, but in the end?

_He was gone._

_It was saddening._

_It was tragic._

"The hell is that stuff?" Ryze suddenly gasped, stepping back from Orianna. She could feel a torrent of dampness spreading down from her eyes, the liquid possessing a strange warmth as it dripped off from her chin.

She did what she could to catch the droplets, yet they were infrequent and erratic as they fell. Ryze didn't say anything else, and left her to her own devices. The liquid was growing thicker and thicker, her vision blurring from the build up in her eyes.

"Orianna." Thresh mumbled gently, appearing at her side. Grabbing onto her shoulders, he did what he could to comfort her. "Come with me."

Her friends had since abandoned her, leaving Thresh as her only companion. With nothing to lose she complied, hulking over to try and slow the dripping water. Thresh directed her like a parent with their young child, nudging her forwards until they reached the outside entrance to the base.

Thresh sat her down on the floor and knelt alongside her, still gripping onto her shoulders as he did so. Orianna had resorted to pressing her palms against her eyes, her vision filled with black.

"What is happening to me?"

"It's obvious isn't it?" The Warden sighed. He rested his lantern on her lap, hoping it would bring some comfort to her with its glow. "You've discovered something that saddens you tremendously. You are crying, it's perfectly natural."

"I cannot cry, I possess no emotions."

"Stop saying that, you do." Thresh chuckled, trying to cheer her up. "You're so emotional, I'm beginning to tear up myself!"

_She giggled at the comment._

_Her first laugh._

_And perhaps the first of many?_

"You've lost someone valuable to you." Thresh said, his grip on her tightening with his words. "Just cry the anguish out."

Orianna did just as he said, letting the droplets and tears bounce onto the grass harmlessly. They pattered softly as they landed, liquid bursting out and coating the area in their dampness. Thresh didn't speak as she did so, his lantern dimming to a comfortable glow as she let her eyes open theirselves.

"Did you reap his soul?" Orianna asked. It only made sense to ask the ferryman himself, who may have been the last to see Taric following his demise.

"I escorted it, certainly." Thresh muttered forlornly, not wanting to reveal the truth. "Even _I _do not know the fate of those after death. Your friend may have a journey of his own ahead of him."

"I see." Orianna sighed, her voice adopting a mourning tone. The two sat together for a moment to pay respects to the man that had passed away, not a word being bandied in the dark of the sunrise.

"Orianna." Thresh called, shaking her gently to check if she was responsive. She looked up to him curiously, wondering what he wanted. "Do you want to know something?"

She nodded silently, having no reason to vocalise her answer. Thresh chuckled at this, finding it almost cute that she didn't speak.

"I am a reaper: A warden of lost souls. It is my task to collect the very essence of spirits and ferry them to the afterlife." He stated, grabbing a firm grip on his lantern. "And I am behind today."

"Excuse me?"

"I am due many a soul." He grumbled, hauling himself to his feet. His lantern followed suite, the warmth of its glow leaving Orianna's body. "The reason that I was attracted to you in the first place was because of this."

"Only for you to discover that I possess no such thing." She said, getting straight to the point. She had no idea what he was going for with this discussion, although she had to admit that it did surprise her that he was behind schedule.

He laughed "Oh how wrong you are."

"How so?" She asked, tilting her head in the manner she had grown accustomed to in the past few hours. Thresh turned to face her, looking down at her with an expression best described as awe-inspired.

"In all of my years of hunting, never before have I come across a soul so vibrant and powerful." He sighed, almost sounding mesmerised in his discovery. He pointed a skeletal finger at Orianna, shaking his head as he did so. "You insist that you are a cold, heartless killing machine."

"But you're not." Thresh stated, barely containing a chuckle. "You have the brightest soul I have _ever_ come across."

While she had been coming to terms with expressing emotions, she still had no idea about how to react to this discovery. With that in mind, she resorted to her usual monotone that shrouded her sheer surprise at this statement. "So why didn't you claim it?"

"I intended to." He stated, speaking truthfully of his original intentions. "But I just couldn't bring myself to do it... Finding a heart as pure as yours, I just... I couldn't take it from you."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Well, I guess you deserved to know the truth." Thresh sighed, crouching in front of her and patting her head. While she originally found the action irritating, she couldn't help but enjoy the familiarity of his touch against her. "Because when these humans speak of you as a beast? You should know that _you _are far more human than any of them could dream."

"_You aren't a tool, you aren't a facade."_

"_You are Orianna."_

_And that's all he had to say._

The Warden left a few minutes later, his lantern lighting the way.

_And lighting the path of her future._

_X_

_(A/N): DEAR LORD THIS TURNED INTO DRIVEL WITHIN SECONDS D:_

_I'm really sorry about how this turned out. I understand that I usually go on about my stories sucking, but this one takes the cake. It makes no sense for the most part, and for that I apologise :(_

_Still, at least I got this nonsense out of my system :O_


End file.
